The Princess’s Rebellion

The grand ballroom was suffocating. Princess Elara stood on the dais, her father's eyes urging her to pick a husband. This was Valentine’s Day, and the pressure on the royal family was intense. If you go back to when Elara was a child, she had always dreamed of a storybook romance, but the reality before her was grim. She had two final suitors, and neither was a good catch.

First was Lord Cedric. Her uncle had introduced me to him last summer. Cedric was handsome, but he had a strange obsession with his own reflection. He spent hours talking about his glory in battle, yet he had never actually led a charge. Elara knew that actions speak louder than words, and Cedric’s actions consisted only of grooming his mustache. To her, he suffered from a clear case of arrested development; he was a grown man with the maturity of a spoiled toddler.

The second option was Duke Silas. Silas was wealthy and powerful, but their short courtship was plagued by a lack of trust. He had spies following Elara’s ladies-in-waiting and questioned her every move. "I'd rather be alone than watched like a prisoner," Elara thought. For her, his paranoia was a total dealbreaker.

The King stepped forward. "Elara, who will you settle for? We must announce the engagement before the feast."

Elara looked at the two men. One was a vain boy in a man’s body, and the other was a paranoid jailer. She knew she couldn't settle for someone just to satisfy tradition. She took a deep breath and addressed the crowd.

"I have listened to their vows," Elara said, her voice steady. "But I have decided that I am not ready to settle down with either of these men. In fact, I'd rather abdicate my claim to the throne than marry into misery."

The room fell silent. Then, Elara removed her crown and placed it on her father’s seat. "I am leaving to explore the world on my own terms. My life is not a prize to be won." She walked out of the ballroom, leaving the suitors and the crown behind.